That Infamous Pearl (5 page)

"Aunt Louisa,
who is that lady in the violet gown? I don't recall meeting her before, and she
is very lovely."

Lady Belmont turned
in the direction Rowena indicated and gave a tiny gasp, her hand travelling up
to her throat. She made a strangled noise.

"Aunt? What is
wrong?"

Lady Belmont turned
to Rowena, a glazed expression on her face. "That is Lady Bingham. Her
reputation does not bear examining, and you need not concern yourself with her,
Rowena."

Rowena gave
Marguerite a curious look. "She is very beautiful. Why should I not know
her, Aunt?"

"Why must you
forever be asking questions, Rowena?" Lady Belmont looked at Rowena's
mutinous expression and sighed. "Your father should have discouraged this
unbecoming curiosity of yours when you were a child. Very well, Lady Bingham
is...is not at all respectable. She has been living on the Continent, quite
apart from her husband, for some years. Ladies of her sort are not proper
acquaintances for you."

Rowena's eyes
widened. "Is she very scandalous?"

"Very." Lady
Belmont shut her fan abruptly. "Is that enough information for you?"

"She was talking
to Lord Brayleigh," observed Rowena.

"Quite likely. That
is precisely why I do not want you speaking to him. She is far more in his line
than you are."

Rowena gave Lady
Bingham another curious glance. The older woman was very lovely and had seemed
to be on intimate terms with Lord Brayleigh. When Marguerite had leaned towards
Brayleigh so seductively, Rowena had felt an emotion she could not precisely
pinpoint, but she knew that the encounter had made her uncomfortable. She bit
her lip. It seemed that Lord Brayleigh had plenty of company. Surely her
presence later tonight in the garden would be completely unnecessary.

Alaric stood quietly
in the shadow of the garden wall, his eyes fixed on the house that rose in
front of him. Only one window on the third floor had a light in it, and he was
certain that room was Rowena's. He watched it impatiently, barely holding his
temper in check. It was ten minutes past two.

He knew he shouldn't
be in the Belmont's garden and that it was extremely improper of him to have
suggested to Rowena that she meet him there. She was a well-bred young lady,
the daughter of an earl, with an unblemished life behind her. She would be
expected to marry well and to take her place in Society as a fashionable
matron. Meeting older, faintly scandalous, men in the garden late at night was
not on the list of activities deemed proper for her.

But Alaric could not
help himself. His polite encounters with Rowena in the ballrooms of the
ton
were making him increasingly frustrated. He longed to be alone with her, to
talk to her freely without every eye in the room on them, to discover if the
warmth he thought he glimpsed under the cool facade she showed to the polite
world existed. He knew, or thought he knew, that Rowena differed from other
women he had been acquainted with, that the intelligence burning in her violet
eyes was real, that she was strong, kind, and loyal. If he had known twelve
years ago that Rowena existed and would grow up to be such a remarkable woman,
he would have handled things very differently.

Alaric pulled out his
watch and glanced at it, cursing softly. It was thirteen minutes past two. He
looked up again at Rowena's window. A pipe led up the wall near it, and a stout
vine made its way across to the glass. He eyed them thoughtfully. It might be
possible to climb up. It would be reckless, he knew, but he had to speak to
Rowena tonight.

He stepped out of the
shadows of the tree and moved quickly towards the house. Placing one hand on
the pipe he shook it thoughtfully, testing its strength. As he pondered his
options, he saw from the corner of his eye a flash of light and realized the
kitchen door was opening. He stepped hastily up against the wall, and watched
carefully as a head leaned cautiously out the cracked door. Muted light glinted
off white-gold hair, and Alaric smiled. Rowena had been unable to resist. Her
curiosity had gotten the better of her.

He waited silently as
Rowena opened the door further and stepped out into the yard, pushing the door
gently closed behind her. She looked around nervously, uncertain whether she
should stay. She had been determined until the last possible moment that she
would not meet Lord Brayleigh in the garden. His manner earlier in the evening
had been altogether too assured, and this meeting was highly improper. Rowena
had absolutely no business having dealings with the man who had been her
brother's enemy, who was possibly a murderer, and who certainly had an unsavory
reputation.

Nonetheless, when the
time he had set was almost past she had nearly panicked, rushing frantically
downstairs, fearing that he would be gone. She scolded herself for being
foolish, but she could not believe that Lord Brayleigh was beyond reprieve. There
was a look in his brilliant green eyes that assured her, each time she gazed
into them, that he could not possibly be the monster Aunt Louisa believed him
to be.

She took a few more
steps into the garden and then paused, her heart sinking when she saw no sign
of Alaric. Perhaps he was gone already, she thought, tired of waiting for her
to appear, or perhaps he had never come at all, and he had merely been making a
cruel jest at her expense. She pulled her shawl more tightly about her
shoulders and sighed.

"Good evening,
Lady Rowena."

Rowena jumped and
squeaked when the voice spoke directly behind her. She swung around abruptly
and fixed Alaric with a furious glare.

"That was not at
all kind of you, Lord Brayleigh," she said heatedly. "Surely you were
aware that I would be nervous."

He grinned. "It
was irresistible, but not particularly considerate of me. I beg your pardon."

Rowena smiled as her
sense of humor came to the fore. "Did I look very cautious?" she
asked.

"You looked
terrified. You need not, you know. I won't harm you."

Rowena's chin lifted.
"I did not think you would."

Alaric gave her a
piercing look. "Not afraid, Lady Rowena? Surely you have heard the stories
of how I killed Ingram over the Pearl of Sirsi and allowed your brother to take
the blame. You aunt must have warned you that a young lady is not safe in the
company of the Earl of Brayleigh."

Rowena gave a
scornful laugh. "I am not such a fool as to believe every story that is
told to me, my lord. I have done some searching into your past and I find that
the tales of your debauchery are greatly exaggerated."

Alaric made a choking
noise. "You have done some searching?" he repeated.

"Certainly. I
see no reason why I should be expected to simply believe everything I am told. However,
my lord, I also find that you are guilty of encouraging the opinion Society
holds of you." Rowena looked at him accusingly.

Alaric's brows came
together in a considering look. "Whatever do you mean, Lady Rowena?"

"I mean that,
despite my best attempts, no one can relate anything truly dreadful you have
ever done, my lord, but you seem to delight in and encourage your generally
devilish reputation."

"I took
Mannering's entire fortune from him at the gambling table only two weeks ago,
only so I might obtain a particular sculpture he owned," said Alaric,
perversely prompted by Rowena's words to prove himself a villain. "Do you
not find that cruel of me?"

"He was stupid
to play with you, particularly when it became obvious that his luck was out,"
answered Rowena. "I have no patience with those who have no self-control."

Alaric looked at her,
his eyes hooded. "You do not consider murder to be truly dreadful, Lady
Rowena?"

Rowena gave him a
scornful glance. "I found no evidence, outside of malicious gossip, that
you murdered Alfred Ingram, my lord. As I mentioned before, I prefer to make my
own decisions."

"So you believe
your brother is a murderer?" asked Alaric, surprise written on his face.

"Really, you try
my patience," said Rowena. "Why is it necessary that I believe either
you or Malcolm to be a killer? I see no reason why any number of other people
could not be the murderer. Alfred Ingram was not a popular man, and that pearl
was worth a fortune. Anyone might have desired it."

"But only I had
proclaimed my intention of owning it," interposed Alaric. "Surely
that counts for something."

"And I am told
Malcolm just as loudly proclaimed his determination to do anything to prevent
you from having it. The two of you created a public situation that any clever
person might have taken advantage of."

Alaric smiled gently.
"It just so happens that you are right on this occasion, Lady Rowena, at
least partially. I did not murder Alfred Ingram."

Rowena looked up at
the moon, which shed a gentle light into the garden. Despite her earlier brave
words, she felt a sudden rush of relief.

"I thought not,"
she said eagerly. "We must immediately proceed to solve this mystery, so
that Malcolm can come home."

Alaric paused. "What
mystery?"

"Why, the
mystery of who actually killed Ingram. Whoever it is must have the Pearl of
Sirsi in his possession. It shouldn't be difficult to discover the culprit."

"Not be
difficult?" Alaric stared at her. "I cannot imagine why you think it
would be easy to locate a pearl only two inches around, and missing for a dozen
years, somewhere in the country of England, nor why you feel it is necessary to
pursue this topic. If I did not kill Ingram, then it is immediately obvious who
did."

Rowena swung towards
him, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Who?" she demanded.

"Why, Malcolm
Arlingby, of course." Alaric shook his head. "Lady Rowena, you did
not know your brother well. He was truly a hotheaded young man. As much as I
dislike saying this to you, it is almost certain that he murdered Alfred Ingram
in order to regain the pearl."

Rowena froze, and a
look of disdain came over her face. "Lord Brayleigh, I had thought you
more intelligent than that. It appears I was mistaken."

Alaric fought down a
rising feeling of frustration. The moonlight, shining gently down into the
garden, gave Rowena's skin a silken glow that was almost irresistible. He had
arranged this meeting in order to be alone with her, and now he found himself
arguing with the lady, rather than wooing her.

"Lady Rowena, I
assure you, I do not hold your brother's actions against you. But you must
understand that it is not possible to clear his name. He fled the country. If I
doubted before that he was the killer, that certainly convinced me. An innocent
man would have faced the charges."

Rowena smiled at
that. "You see, you did have your doubts. Aunt Louisa told me that you
urged him to stand trial. At the time you must have thought him innocent."

Alaric hesitated. "I
admit, that, at the time, I thought it was unlikely that Malcolm would resort
to murder. But his subsequent actions changed my mind. I no longer doubt that
he is guilty."

"But it was the
family that hurried him out of the country," Rowena pointed out. "He
did not wish to go."

"But he went,"
said Alaric darkly. "There is no way to argue the point."

Rowena frowned. "I
thought you would help me. That's why I came out here tonight. It seemed that
you would want to set matters straight."

"That is why you
came to meet me?" Alaric was astounded. "That isn't very flattering,
Rowena." He noted that she did not object to his use of her first name.

"Why did you
think I came?" she asked, her violet eyes wide. She turned towards him,
and gave a tiny gasp at the expression on his face. He took a step towards her,
and she retreated until she felt the vine-covered garden wall behind her.

"I thought
perhaps you wanted my company," murmured Alaric. He placed his hands on
either side of Rowena's head, so she was trapped between his arms.

"Of course I
find your conversation very interesting, my lord," said Rowena, refusing
to appear startled. Her heart began to beat more quickly, and her knees felt
weak. "But I believe we should return to the topic of clearing my brother's
name."

"I find Malcolm's
sister of far more interest than his guilt or innocence," answered Alaric.
He gazed down at her, his green eyes glittering. He was sure that beneath her
calm exterior he would find fire.

"My lord, I must
go back inside. If someone were to see us..."

"No one will see
us," answered Alaric. He could no longer resist. Slowly leaning forward,
he brought his lips to Rowena's, covering her tender mouth with a quick, fierce
demand. She gave a gasp of surprise, and he seized the opportunity to slip his
tongue between her lips, softly plundering the warm interior of her mouth. One
hand moved from the wall to cup her cheek, urging her face upward towards his.

Rowena froze in his
arms, startled by his kiss, and uncertain what to do. But before she could make
a coherent decision, she trembled in reaction, growing breathless and strangely
weak. She gave a tiny sigh and leaned into him, raising her lips up to his for
more. After a moment, however, her commonsense returned to her, and she
flinched and moved fretfully in his arms. With a start, Alaric was recalled to
reality and released her, looking down anxiously into her eyes.

"Is something
wrong?" he asked.

Rowena fought for
possession of her faculties. "Nothing at all, my lord, except that you are
kissing me. This is not why I came to meet you tonight."

Alaric raised his
hand and stroked her hair. All he wished to do was kiss her again.

"Isn't it,
Rowena?" he asked.

"Definitely not,"
she said, her voice shaking slightly. "I wished to speak with you about
Malcolm, of course."

"We spoke of
Malcolm. I believe that topic has been thoroughly covered. Now we have other
things to talk of."

"Such as?" Rowena
moved away from him quickly, putting distance between her treacherous body and
his.

"Such as you and
me." Alaric stood still, watching the graceful movement of her hips under
the drapery of her dress. It was all he could do not to close the distance
between them with a quick stride and gather her into his arms again.

Rowena paused. Alaric
could see a slight tremor pass through her body, and his senses quickened in
response.

"There is
nothing to discuss, Lord Brayleigh. As long as the situation stands as it does
with my brother and yourself, there can be nothing between the two of us."

Alaric's eyes
narrowed. "And if I found a way to clear your brother?"

Rowena hesitated. She
could feel her heart still hammering under her ribcage. "I will be honest
with you, my lord. I have heard much discussion of you in the past days. Many
people feel you are pursuing me from a sense of pique, to punish my family for
insisting on your guilt in the matter of the Pearl of Sirsi. Others think that
you feel I would be an unusual and worthy addition to your collection. No one
seems to think that you might be in love with me."